


Red and Green

by jaminsjiminsjams



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester x You - Freeform, Dean x Reader, Dean x You - Freeform, F/M, Supernatural Reader insert, dean winchester x reader - Freeform, spn fanfic, spn fanfiction, spn reader insert, supernatural fanfic - Freeform, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaminsjiminsjams/pseuds/jaminsjiminsjams
Summary: Genre: RomanceCharacter: A hunterMaterial: A letter.Sentence: “You don’t have to love me” -must be included as dialogue in story.Bonus: Winter is extremely long and cold





	Red and Green

**Author's Note:**

> Randomly generated plotline (shown in summary)

Dean sighs and presses his palm to his forehead. He lets out a rather loud sigh and reaches for the bottle of whiskey that was now almost half empty. He grabs it roughly and brings it to him. “Ho-ho-happy holidays,” he grumbles and takes a long drink out of the bottle. Dean squints slightly and sets the bottle back down. He looks at his brother, and then at y/n. She frowns and looks over to Sam. It doesn’t take them long to connect the dots.

Christmas was in a few days.

Dean had found a habit of falling into a funk around Christmas in the past years, and nothing had ever been able to pull him out of it- except the ending of the holiday seasons. It reminded him of the family he didn’t have- what he could’ve had, and what he wanted to have.

The lost, almost childlike look on Dean’s face as he stares out the window brings y/n out of her seat. She walks over to him and plops down onto the couch beside him. Y/n takes the bottle and sets it out of his reach before she turns back to him. “Why the long face?” She whispers and places her hand on his shoulder. Dean raises one eyebrow and looks over at her, his eyes glossy.

“Oh, don’t.” He murmurs and redirects his attention back to the window. “Really, I’m fine. You and Sam are being,” he closes his eyes briefly, and then they snap back open- “ridiculous.” His voice has a slight slur to it, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Dude…we’re just worried ab-”

“No,” Dean’s eyes close again- “chick,” he opens one eye and peers at Sam- “flick,” he sits up straighter, both eyes opening- “moments.” Dean stands up with that last word and glances down at y/n. “That goes for you too,” he reaches across her and grabs the bottle. “No chick-flick moments. Ever. Not allowed, against the rules- illegal,” Y/n holds her hands up and fights the smile that forms on her lips.

“Okay, you got it.” Dean glares down at her slightly, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

He lifts the bottle to his lips and pauses. He pauses at the faint pained expression that crosses y/n’s face when he does so. Dean clenches his jaw. He moves the bottle away from him quickly, accidentally slamming it onto the table. Some of the liquid manages to splash out, and he stares down at that.

Anything, anything else.

The window.

Everything outside is covered in a blanket of white. Tiny dots of light speckle the bar across their motel.

Green, red, green, red, green, red.

A burst of anger surges through Dean, and, unable to control himself, a loud cry flies past his lips as he swipes the bottle off the table. It flies across the room and slams into the wall, and his fists clench by his side as he ignores Sam’s slew of curses towards him. His gaze darts to clock, then to his brother. Sam’s eyes widen slightly when they lock eyes, and Dean’s bottom lip trembled slightly.

He clenches his jaw, his eyelids fluttering as he closes them, doing whatever he can to hid himself. He steps forward and rips the door open, only to slam it shut seconds later.

“Damnit!” He shouts, his arm swinging out as if he was throwing something. He holds his head in his hands, unable to hold himself back anymore. “All this damn cheeriness,” he growls. Dean looks up at y/n, his eyes rimmed red. Y/n looks over at Sam briefly and nods towards the door. He steps out slowly, the door clicking shut behind him.

Y/n places her hand on Dean’s shoulder, and her eyebrows raise slightly. “Dean? Hey, Dean. It’s okay…” Dean flinches slightly, and a shaky sigh falls past his lips.

“It’s not, y/n…I just…” He sighs again and stares down at the ground. “I don’t know what to say,” he mutters. “I’ll- I just,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crinkled, folded and torn piece of paper. “This might explain things,” he murmurs. Dean walks over to the couch and lays down, covering his face as y/n opens the paper. “You don’t have to say anything,” he says, and, almost to himself murmurs: “You don’t have to love me.” Y/n smiles softly to herself and looks over at him.

“Dean…” He looks up at her, his breath catching in his throat. “I love you too.”


End file.
